


touch

by sunhiyou



Series: eight letters [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Developing Relationship, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Size Difference, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 09:16:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17680664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunhiyou/pseuds/sunhiyou
Summary: But then, here's one thing Tobio doesn’t understand the most about Hinata: it’s how the boy seems to thrive off of close proximity and physical affection.





	touch

**Author's Note:**

> wow, can you guys believe that i actually wrote all of this in ONE day?? it's been a while. I'M PROUD! this is also in celebration for 1k followers on my twt. the name of the series is also based off of this [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JQix0eKwlww)

Hinata continues to be an ever-growing phenomenon full of endless mysteries, full of unpredictability, full of an unexplained charm.

The boy’s entity stands on the opposite spectrum of where Tobio is; he isn’t dark, isn’t boring, but what he is is that he’s a human personification of the sun, shimmering so brightly with the wild flames licking and flickering, ready to burn those who dare to underestimate him. Though, they do share a few things in common, as such their passion for volleyball, and then, there are these other things: so similar but so different. Just like Tobio, Hinata isn't so good with words. But unlike Tobio, Hinata is able to spit out hundreds of words under a minute, incomprehensible noises often trickling in into his not so wide range of vocabulary.

He’s as full of energy as Tobio too, though the boy bounces even outside volleyball with a constant exuberance of a whirred up toy, the kind that’s made to be incapable of ever dying. It confuses Tobio so to say, how such a tiny body is able to hold so much energy, much less be able to run so fast or jump so high.

But then, here's one thing Tobio doesn’t understand the most about Hinata: it’s how the boy seems to thrive off of close proximity and physical affection.

It doesn’t matter _who_ or _where_ , the sun boy would latch himself onto anyone, even the ones he had only met five minutes into their first meeting, depending on his first impressions. Tobio supposes it’s Hinata’s kind of charm, his ability to beguile even the most resilient person-  _Kozume_ could attest to that- and get them to cave in into his fire, moulding them, shaping them up into a different person by the end of the day.

Only… _how?_

Tobio stares at the unfolding scene before him.

It’s lunchtime, he’s come to retrieve Hinata from his class on their way to usual spot for lunch, but he’s left to awkwardly stand by the hallway as he watches Hinata busy being snared up in the hooks that’s his classmates’ hands. His laughter drizzles into the specks of air as his orange curls gets tangled up into knots, entwined in far too many pair of hands pulling and kneading it, that when the boy’s head finally escapes their clutch, his hair ends up being a messier nest than it’s ever been.

It doesn’t take long until Hinata finally acknowledges his presence, head whirling too quick Tobio is afraid it might actually snap one day. “Oh, hi, Kageyama!” He shouts out to him in geeeting, waving at him with his wrapped bento in hand. Before he could slink away, he pats, hugs his classmates with no slightest hesitation in his gestures, then bounces towards him.

Tobio’s frown only deepens at this lacking show of any discomfort.

“Ready?” Hinata asks just as he reaches him by the door, grin blinding.

He blinks, then looks away. “More than you’ve ever been, stupid.”

Hinata lets out an affronted squawk.

What follows is a usual, typical banter played out between them.

Except, this time, there’s a thought which sticks to Kageyama’s mind like a gum glued between a few hair strands.

He doesn’t understand how Hinata easily gives and accepts touches from others. He’s seen it a countless of times, especially in practice matches, official matches, how he was and is with their team, but even then, Tobio could _never_ understand. Whenever their teammates engage in physical touches- _high fives, fist bumps and such-_ whether one on one or two on one, Tobio could only watch them from afar, wonders how it’d be like to be part of it. Hinata, on the other hand, grabs at the opportunity whenever he can, has no sense of personal space nor privacy either as he often likes to barge in, the boy never fails to make himself included in people’s conversation.

But somehow, he’s able to do it without irritating anyone, without any trace of awkwardness in the atmosphere. Hinata does it so effortlessly, makes it look so… _natural._ Seamless. Like he’s _supposed_ to be part of the flow. Tobio can barely even engage in a conversation between himself and another without making an ass out of himself at least once. It grows to the point where Tobio actually starts depending on Hinata to lead the way in social cues. He bows when Hinata tells him to, gives his thanks as Hinata nudges at him to, and really, he lets Hinata lead the way often, he doesn’t mind this, but-

When it comes to touching, it’s a whole different matter, something Tobio still doesn’t understand.

Physical affection, especially from those outside of the family… it’s a concept so _foreign_ to him, to his body, to his skin.

He couldn’t understand because he’s never had anyone to share high-fives or fist bumps with at school, and hell, he barely has even anyone to talk about anything with. That’s why he loves volleyball, because volleyball isn’t a person, and he doesn’t ever need words and the adrenaline he gets from touching the ball, receiving it, _tossing_ it- he doubts a touch from a person would ever compare to the satisfaction of touches that volleyball could give to him. At least, that’s what he tells himself when he sees his teammates in junior high doing those… _friends'_ touches things.

But then, he steps into Karasuno.

And then, he meets Hinata.

Somehow, it’s not so surprising that Hinata tries- like, a _lot-_ to initiate touches with him, especially outside of volleyball court. Like how he often tries to snatch him by the wrist, but Tobio would always, always slip it out a few seconds later, or when Hinata sits close to him on the bus, so, so close that their knees touch, thighs pressing up together and Tobio has to shove at him sometimes to keep some distance between them. Then, there’s these other times too, when Hinata pulls him down to his level to whisper into his ear, or use Tobio’s height to shield himself when confronted by intimidating people.

The persistent touches had undoubtedly been annoying at first, but as time stretches on, the more accustomed Tobio finds himself growing to them. Since then, he just lets Hinata be, lets him touch, lets him close, lets the boy press himself up against his back, lets him tuck himself into his side when they fall asleep on the bus. Hinata somehow seems happy with this development, given the bright smiles he shoots up at Tobio especially after he wakes up, roused from his sleep with dry drool at the side of his chin, and as gross as it is, Tobio guesses he doesn’t mind this development too.

Except, he does. He _thought_ he no longer minds but then when a hand- so solid, so warm- sneaks into the palm of his hands, and his blue eyes raked over to the small, tiny hand enveloped in his own big ones, Tobio’s heart nearly leaps out of his throat. He never noticed then, but now that it’s there for him to _feel_ , he can’t help but marvel over how so small they were, how soft they are, how they probably can’t encircle his whole wrist.

And that’s where things went downhill. The more Hinata touches, the more worked up Tobio gets, his heart racing a _‘dun-dun,_ _dun-dun’_ as though it ran a whole marathon.

Are touches between friends supposed to make him feel this way? Is he supposed to crave more for it?

Tobio doesn’t know.

He’s never had a friend to share buns with, to compete with, to share fist bumps and touches with.

Then, Hinata comes along, and Tobio supposes he is a friend. Is this how it feels to have a friend? Is Hinata even a _friend?_ But even then, is he supposed to feel like hugging his friend, like he wants to _kiss_ the hell out of them? Do friends get jealous when they see someone else have their friend’s attention; wants their friend’s touches to be for them and _only_ for them?

He searches this one night, by typing out on the worn keypad of his flip-phone.

 _A crush,_ he reads his answer, _when you want to kiss someone, and get jealous of someone else talking to them, it usually means a crush._

Tobio has a crush on Hinata.

Somehow, Tobio sits well with this newfound information.

* * *

One day, Hinata starts avoiding him out of the blue.

He should have known, should have seen the signs, starting with the few times Hinata flinches when Tobio actually tries to initiate a few of his own touches or bundling himself up against the small warm body.

Because now,  when he turns up at their usual lunch spot, no one is there to be found, and whenever Tobio tries his approach, the other boy turns a rabbit, quick to scamper off, leaving him in the dust.

He starts wondering if he’s done anything wrong, wonders if he’s somehow reverted to his tyrannical aggression to make him lose his only friend- it's the only explanation he can come up with- when he remembers about his own attempts of touching him.

Had the touches Tobio initiated been too much? No, that can’t be it. That’d be stupid, because Hinata is the one who’s started this whole touching fiasco, so why then would he backing out because of Tobio’s reciprocation? Unless… Hinata has found out about his crush. Which would change everything.

 _Crap._ Is that why he’s avoiding him now?

 _But, it’s not a big deal,_ Tobio figures. He’s gone through things without Hinata once, he could do it again.

Except, he doesn’t. He _couldn’t._

Tobio, who once couldn’t digest the idea of touches, of physical affection, has finally started to see its light as he finds himself craving for the contact his skin, his body, has grown used to, even his heart clenches a little at the thought. He misses the small body next to his, small but warm and full, and the hands that likes to grip at his wrist or his sleeve whenever brown eyes have found its object of interest. He misses the way Hinata would lean in into him from behind, peeking over his shoulders because he’s a little nosy shit who can’t learn to mind his own business whenever Tobio is busy with his screen-cracked flip phone.

It’s like this, he somehow loses his only friend to to share buns with, to compete with, to share fist bumps and touches with. It’s like this, he returns to his volleyball mindset, depending solely on the fleeting moment of contact where he sends the tosses into the air- where it gets spiked by the same friend he somehow managed to lose.

But, Tobio isn’t a quitter, and he’s not ready to lose his friend all because of a crush. He'd rather a friendship than total rejection of any bond they have.

So, he corners him one evening after their usual practice match, at the biking rack. He lays out a plan, that he’ll be the first to finish so when Hinata reaches his bike, he won’t be able to jolt away quick, and if he happens to run, then hell, Tobio would break out into a run, too.

That didn’t happen, however, because Tobio successfully gets to have him stay rooted into a place even though the boy’s expression clearly says he’s ready to bolt away. He closes in on the orange boy, gets closer, and closer, and helps him on the metal chains he has difficulty unlocking. The metal rattles as it hits the railing.

Hinata starts lowering his hands, but Tobio stops him, sliding his own big ones over the small pair, and it’s an instant effect, his skin rejoices in delight, relishing in the familiar skin-on-skin contact as though it’s mean to be.

In the distance, there’s the start of cicadas and the howling of a night breeze blowing through. A little far ahead, the lamp post has just flickered on its light as well, partially enshrouded them in bits of white light in the middle of blue, cold darkness in the approaching night.

Tobio grips onto Hinata’s hands, so tight, afraid that if he were to loosen his grip for even a single second, the sun would rip away from him like a rough tide of waves, carrying with him the light, the warmth Tobio once could only dream of having.

But then, Hinata is tilting his head up, and even in the dark, he still somehow glows, but dimmer now that he sees the concerns, the webs of convolution pooled in his brown eyes.

“You…” Tobio starts, slowly. “You were avoiding me.”

“Yeah.” Hinata says.

Tobio grunts, blows a puff of air right into Shouyou’s face. “Why?”

“Because of this,” is what the boy answers, and Tobio’s hearts gets swamped with a clench- but it’s the _good_ kind of clench this time- when he feels the tiny hands tighten on his. “I’ve... imagined this.”

“This?” Tobio questions. He racks his brain, attempts a moment of critical thinking on what Hinata means by _this_ when the feel of their bodies pressed close suddenly feels too real; the weave of their hands, the small back to his front- “Oh,” Tobio says, dumbly. _“Oh.”_

His mind couldn’t wrap around the fact that _Hinata’s imagined this._

“Yeah.” Hinata laughs, the shitty sly smile crawling back into his face. “Oh.”

“I thought… I did something.” Tobio sighs, then moves to untangle their fingers when Hinata doesn’t let him, putting them a hostage to his waist instead- _just as t_ _iny too,_ Tobio note- and his breath stutters as Hinata practically holds onto him, nuzzling into him, and it’s an upgrade in their development of touching where the furthest they had only gone was some hand holding.

Tobio awkwardly moves to let his arms rest around Hinata’s figure. He’s never hugged a person like this before.

Quietness crowds them in for a moment until Hinata breaks it with a, “I was scared.”

“Why?” Tobio pokes a question at him.

Hinata just muffles into his cloth, and it’s a little hard to hear, but nothing too hard to make out of it. “You’ll think I’m weird.” Hinata mumbles, “for thinking about this. For imagining this.”

Tobio snorts. “Not like that'll change. You’ve always been weird.”

Hinata pinches him and Tobio pinches him back. And then, suddenly, Hinata is tipping his chin again, the point of it digging into Tobio’s chest.

Tobio stares back at him. “What?”

“Nothing.” Hinata says, “You’re kinda pretty.”

Tobio feels his face flush, and all he can do is tighten his hold on Hinata in response as the boy grins, and grins.

So, turns out, Tobio hasn’t quite lost his friend yet, after all.

He still has a friend to share buns with, to compete with, to share fist bumps and touches with, except this time, there’s… _something else_ in the equation. He gets the feeling he has a vague sense of idea on what it actually is, that his crush is playing a part too and maybe- just _maybe-_ Hinata has a crush on him, too.

And so, here's one thing Tobio starts to understand about Hinata: it’s how the boy seems to thrive off of close proximity and physical affection, and though Tobio still has a lot to learn about it, he figures Hinata would help him with it along the way.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me @shouyoto on [twitter](https://twitter.com/shouyoto) and/or [instagram!](https://instagram.com/shouyoto) <3


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